


The Cleaners Have Done Their Job On You

by falafelfiction



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falafelfiction/pseuds/falafelfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time and the last time that Walt and Jesse clean up dead bodies together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cleaners Have Done Their Job On You

**Author's Note:**

> The two parts of this story were cannibalized from what was going to be a much longer 'Five Times' story about Walt and Jesse having to deal with the people who've died their wake. This story has been sitting in my documents folder unfinished for almost a year now. So to save it from going to waste, I decided to take just the first and last segment (that had mostly been written) and post them as one fic showing how Walt and Jesse's perspectives on killing and survivalism have shifted over the seasons.

 

Mr White was still coughing when he parked the RV in Jesse’s drive way.

The old dude had been coughing through the whole ride back. Jesse got the feeling he might doing it on purpose to block out those _other_ coughing sounds that were coming from under the tarp. Yeah, those dying rasping noises were seriously freaking Jesse out. Now they were parked he couldn’t wait to escape the RV. But Mr White caught his arm by the door.

“You...you need to check them,” he said, wheezing.

“What?” Jesse spluttered. “Mr White, I...”

“You have to see which one of them is still breathing.”

Jesse squirmed in his hold. “Why me, man?”

“Because I don’t know those people!” Mr White snapped. “I don’t know their names or which one is which. You brought them out there and now _you_ need to check which one of them is still alive.” He erupted in yet another coughing fit. “I...I need water.”

Mr White pushed him aside and staggered towards the house, leaving Jesse alone in the RV. Well no, not quite alone. Jesse winced and broke out into a new cold sweat as he stared down at the shifting shadows of the tarp and listened to the dry moaning coming from underneath. Jesus, this was like being in a zombie movie. Jesse was afraid to go near them in case they reared up to bite him. He pinched the tarp between his fingers and lifted it from their faces. It had gone dark now so he had to spark up his lighter to get decent look.

It was Emilio who Jesse recognized first – his eyes open in slits, his jaw hanging slack, _dead_. The same Emilio who visited Jesse’s house for dinner a few times back when they were, like, twelve. The Emilio who Jesse’s mom had never liked because she said he was a bad influence while Jesse had ranted back that she was a total racist because she always said that about Jesse’s non-white friends who loaned him their hip-hop CDs. Emilio was looking seriously fucking dead right now and Jesse wondered if he should feel bad about that. Jesse still had the woozy memory of Emilio duct taping his wrists before kicking him hard in the face. So yeah, he wasn’t going to feel too badly for the dude.

With Emilio dead it didn’t take Jesse long to do the math. He flinched as Krazy 8 let out another rattling breath. Jesse fell back on his haunches, scrambled to the RV door and then fled to the safety of his house. He found Mr White in his kitchen, gulping down water from the cold tap. His teacher was still wearing only his shirt, his shoes and his lame old guy underpants. He raised his head from the sink as Jesse rushed in.

“Well?” Mr White asked him expectantly.

“Yeah...uh, it looks like Kraze is still alive. Like _barely_.”

Walt nodded. “Did you lock the RV?”

Jesse swallowed. “Um, yeah...for sure.”

He totally hadn’t locked it but he didn’t want Mr White telling him he had to go back out there. Jesse would just lock all his doors and windows of his house instead. He would keep his crowbars and baseball bats handy in case the zombies tried to break in.

“Good. Okay then...” Mr White paused for just a moment to finish his glass of water and take another deep shuddering breath. “So the one who is still coughing...”

“He’s the guy you talked to,” Jesse explained. “The one with the bag of money.”

Jesse noticed that Mr White still had that bag of money bundled under his arm, holding it close to his chest, the same way that a little kid would hold a teddy bear.

“With the gas he inhaled...” Mr White continued. “I’m almost certain he won’t last the night. It’s safe to say he’ll...succumb in the next few hours. He’s practically dead.”

Jesse nodded rapidly, unable to contain a small sigh of relief.

“Okay so,” he hesitated, “Should we, like...do something for him?”

Mr White frowned at him. “Do something? Do what?”

“You know like...put the dude out of his misery? Like, get it over with?”

“No!” Mr White snapped. “We don’t interfere. We allow nature to take its course. And, like I said...I’ll be back after school tomorrow and then we’ll clean up the mess.”

“Tomorrow? You’re just gonna leave me with them? No way, man!”

Mr White raised a calming hand. “You don’t need to do anything. Just monitor the situation. Listen for noises and movement inside the vehicle. Just...be on guard.”

Jesse blinked. “What? You mean, like...all night?”

“Yes!” Mr White hissed with growing exasperation. “Besides Jesse, you have a head injury. You’re not supposed to sleep after suffering a head injury, right?”

Jesse’s eyes widened. He never knew that. And his head still really fucking hurt.

“What’ll happen if I sleep?” he asked, already panicking. “Yo, Mr White will I get brain damage or an aneurysm or something if I fall asleep? Do I need to go to the hospital?”

“No! No hospitals!” Mr White insisted. “You have to stay here.”

“But my head...” he murmured, raising a trembling hand to his eye.

Jesse had really wanted to smoke some weed once he got home, just anything to calm his nerves. But weed would only make him sleepy. A little crystal would keep him awake but it would also freak him out and Jesse didn’t need to be anymore freaked right now.

“Look, forget what I said,” Mr White said. “I’m sure that your head will be fine. Just put an ice pack on your face and it will reduce the swelling. You’ll be fine.”

“My eye,” Jesse moaned. “God, it feels like a big piece of squashed fruit on my face.”

Jesse took his hand away and stepped closer so his teacher could see.

“Is it bad, Mr White?” he asked. “Does it look really bad? Am I, like, _deformed_?”

Mr White narrowed his eyes. “Jesse...your appearance is very low on my current list of concerns, okay? Excuse me if I have bigger things to worry about right now. Like those two young men out in the RV, one of them dead and one of them dying...because of me.”

Mr White stared coughing again. The cough was starting to worry Jesse now. He wondered if Mr White had breathed in too much of that toxic gas himself. But then Jesse remembered that the old dude had been coughing just like this through their cook session too. Jesse watched warily as Mr White turned away from him, clutching at the sides of the sink and staring out the window to where the RV was parked in the driveway.

“How old were they, Jesse?” he asked softly. “Those two guys?”

Jesse shifted uncomfortably. It looked like Mr White had tears in his eyes.

“Well, um....I only really met Kraze for the first time a few weeks ago but Emilio was in the same grade as me at school, so...I guess they were both around my age.”

“Your age...” Mr White nodded solemnly, “...right.”

Jesse swallowed. He guessed guys his age must seem really young to a fossil like Mr White. He guessed Mr White was feeling bad about having to kill them. And hey, it’s not like Jesse felt great about it either, but he was still relieved to be alive. This shit was really messed up and Jesse was worried he might start crying too. He was close to pussying out and begging Mr White to stay at his house overnight. And how gay would that be.

“Yo, Mr White...you had to do it, man,” said Jesse, coming to stand by his side. “And I guess I should say thank you. Like, thanks for doing what you did. I mean, I know you probably didn’t want to do it and hell, I wouldn’t want to live with that shit either, but...if you hadn’t done it, they would’ve killed us both. I mean, it was them or us, right?”

Mr White closed his eyes and Jesse noticed a tear slipping down his face. He winced and looked away. It felt too weird watching one of his old teachers crying.

“Do you want to borrow some pants?” Jesse asked sheepishly a moment later.

It sounded so stupid and lame. Mr White had saved his life and all Jesse could offer him was pants. Mr White raised his head and looked Jesse up and down, taking in his attire.

“I think if my wife catches me sneaking into the house wearing your pants,” he said slowly, considering, “...it’ll be harder to explain than me sneaking in wearing _no_ pants.”

Jesse nodded. It made sense when he put it that way.

“But I do have to get home to my wife...” Mr White added.

Jesse nodded again and reminded himself not to pussy out. Mr White slipped out the door and headed for his car which was still parked across the street from Jesse’s house. Jesse stared at the RV with the two zombies inside. He thought about Emilio sneaking into his house to play on his Nintendo even after Jesse’s mom had banned them from hanging out. Jesse shut his eyes and tried not to think anymore. It wouldn’t do any good.

 _Yeah, it had to be done_ , Jesse thought. _No other option._

 

~*~

 

Jesse was the first to move after the gun shot...after the boy tumbled onto the sand.

Walt watched in a daze as Jesse rushed towards the dirt bike and its fallen rider. He watched as Jesse sank to his knees beside the boy and pressed his hands to his bleeding chest as if searching for a heartbeat. Then Jesse’s head whipped back to them.

“Hey! He...he’s still breathing!” he yelled. “I think he’s still breathing.”

 _The kid’s not breathing_ , thought Walt. _At least...he better not be_.

“Mr White, we need an ambulance!” Jesse called out to him. “Please, please...we need to get help.” Jesse pulled the helmet from the boy’s head and started with the chest compressions. “Come on, goddamn it! Please...will one of you call for help?!”

Walt could only shake his head, even though Jesse wasn’t looking to see his reply.

“Mr White?” said another voice beside him. “What should I do?”

Todd still had his gun raised. He was aiming it roughly in the direction of Jesse and the dead or dying boy. Walt didn’t know whether Todd was waiting for an order to finish his victim off or to shoot Jesse too for stupidly trying to save the sole witness to their train robbery. Walt reached out fast and snatched the gun out of Todd’s hands.

“We can’t call anybody,” said Walt, surprised by the calmness of his voice. “We’re in dark territory. I doubt any of us would get a signal. So we can’t call anybody.”

Walt hardly needed to add that they never _were_ going to call for an ambulance in the first place. Todd seemed to understand that much and treated Walt to a knowing nod. Then they both turned and stared back at Jesse, who was still on his knees, still pressing down on the kid’s chest and begging him to breathe. But the kid wasn’t going to breathe again.

It was Mike who finally broke the spell that had fallen over them.

“Why did I hear gunshots?” Mike barked. “Who the _fuck_ brought a gun?”

Mike must have run all the way over to them. He stumbled down the slope to where Walt and Todd were standing stock still, his face flushing with anger and exertion. Mike wrenched the gun out of Walt’s hand and Walt braced himself for another of Mike’s predictable rants. He slowly raised a finger and he pointed under the bridging line of track.

“There was a boy,” Walt said. “He saw us, Mike. He saw everything.”

Walt supposed that might not be entirely true. He hadn’t noticed the boy earlier but then all his focus had been on the dial measuring the gallons of methylamine flowing into their tank. The boy might have witnessed the whole robbery or he might have only arrived in time to see them high-fiving. He supposed they would never know now. It was already too late. In these circumstances, it was best to assume that the shooting had been necessary.

“Jesus Christ...” said Mike, taking in the scene beyond arch of the train track.

“It was me who shot him,” Todd piped up, like he expected Mike would give him a pat on the head for his quick thinking and initiative.

Mike ignored both Todd and Walt as he marched over the sand towards the dead boy and the bike. In one swift movement, Mike seized Jesse by the back of his jacket and flung him aside to take a proper look at what they were dealing with. Mike stood for a moment absorbing the sight – the small body, the young face, the total lack of breathing. Walt couldn’t see Mike’s expression, only his tight shoulders, rising and falling. It was surprising to see a professional such as Mike losing his composure. Surely Mike had seen and indeed _committed_ more murders than anyone else here present. The death of a child would be a terrible thing for all of them to bear. But someone had to keep a cool head. Walt supposed that person would have to be him. He would need to keep his emotions restrained for all their sakes.

Mike marched back to them, his eyes bloodshot, his hands balled into fists.

“You! Get a shovel!” he snarled, jabbing at finger at Todd. “You cover the body and the bike over with sand. Cover every trace of them. Ira and his guys are going to be here soon with the truck and we don’t need anybody else knowing about this. I’ll get the Vamanos boys a ride back into town. That’ll leave the four of us to clean up this mess by ourselves.”

Todd nodded at Mike’s command and he swiftly found a spade in one of their nearby bags. Walt had to admit he was impressed by how quick the lad was to follow orders. Walt was still staring at Todd with mild interest when Mike gripped him by the arm.

“Walter...” Mike hissed in his ear. “The kid needs to calm down.”

Walt blinked in confusion and was about to say that Todd seemed perfectly calm before Walt realized which kid Mike was referring to. Jesse had already scrambled back to the dead boy’s body. He seemed to have given up on his attempts at resuscitation, but he was still screaming objections when Todd approached the boy with the shovel. Todd stared back at Walt and Mike in confusion, shrugging his shoulders over Jesse’s outburst.

Walt sighed and crossed the sand to where Jesse was kneeling.

“Jesse, you have to leave him,” Walt said softly. “It’s too late.”

“No!” Jesse screamed; his breathing erratic. “We...we can’t...”

Walt didn’t wait for Jesse to get his words out. He seized him under the arms and dragged him away from the boy. Walt expected Jesse to fight him, but his body was limp with shock, as though he had been shot too. Walt could hardly believe how strong he still felt even after all that had just happened. Once he had hauled Jesse far enough away, he turned Jesse by his shoulders and then clasped his face, forcing Jesse to look at him and not the boy.

“Jesse, it’s done. It’s over,” Walt told him firmly. “Maybe we would have handled things differently but that’s not an option anymore. We just have to clean this up.”

“No, we can’t just bury him out here, Mr White. What about his parents, huh? They’ll never know where he went! They’ll be searching and searching but they won’t ever find him.”

Jesse shivered, his lips trembling. Walt shook his head. It amazed him how upsettable and naive Jesse could still be...how he never got used to the way things worked.

“Jesse...we’re not going to bury him. We’re hiding him in the sand until the truck arrives. Then we’re going to take the body and the bike back to our headquarters.”

Jesse’s eyes strained with despair. “And then what?”

“And then...we’ll do what we always do.”

“No! No Mr White, we can’t do him like that! He’s just a kid.” Jesse began to struggle then, yanking his head around to see what Todd was doing. “God, get that psycho away from him!” he screamed, trying to rise. Walt clutched his arm and held him back.

“Jesse, we can’t blame this all on Todd. He was just following orders after all.”

“What orders?!” Jesse protested. “I told him not to shoot!”

“Yes, of course,” said Walt, gently cupping a hand to the back of Jesse’s neck. “But wasn’t it also you who told Todd that nobody could ever find out about this robbery?”

Jesse blinked, remembering. That was when the tears sprang into his eyes and Walt took the opportunity to pull Jesse into his arms, clasping him to his chest. Soon enough Walt felt the vibrations of Jesse’s sobs against his shoulder. For Walt it was an oddly comforting sensation like when a cat curls up in your lap and begins to purr. Nursing Jesse’s fragile emotions had become a familiar chore for him, one that Walt could easily control.

“It’s okay, son,” Walt consoled. “You could not have foreseen this.”

Walt felt Jesse’s hands clinging to his sides. He glanced down and saw the bloodstains on his gloves. So they would have to be destroyed too. Walt raised his head to see Mike staring over at them, his eyes hard with resentment. Walt ignored Mike’s look but gave a quick wave to assure him that Walt was handling things and Jesse would be calmer soon. Walt glanced over to Todd who had already made the boy’s corpse disappear under the sand and was hard at work digging a trench for his bike. Walt felt thankful to Todd for taking care of things so quickly. It was a terrible thing that had happened. The tragedy still hadn’t hit Walt yet but he supposed he was still shock. Terrible as it was...it had needed to be done. Jesse was right that nobody could know about the robbery. And unlike Jesse, Walt could save his tortured feelings for later. For now, they still had work to do.

Walt pressed a gentle hand to the back of Jesse's head. He knew that once he had calmed down, Walt would get him to see reason. In time Jesse would come to terms with this and they would move forward, just like they had always done. Just like they had done from the first time with those two drug dealers he had gassed in the RV.

 _Yes, it had to be done_ , Walt thought. _No other option..._

Ends


End file.
